Kiss the Rain
by Darnaguen
Summary: A little story inspired by the Billie Myers song 'Kiss the Rain'. Quite possibly my first fanfiction ever, written as a birthday gift for my friend back in 2001.


He was sitting on a rooftop, deep in his thoughts, his long-fingered hands lying on the knees of his torn blue jeans. A messy pouf of auburn hair was fluttering about his face in the wind.  
He trembled a little, mostly because it was one of the rare chilly nights in this beautiful old Southern city, and despite his leather jacket he felt a bit cold._  
Cold, yes..._ Not only outside but inside too. And that was a lot more painful.

---

She was sitting on a rooftop, deep in her thoughts, her gloved arms folded tightly around her upper body.  
A cool breeze stroked her face and made her long, wavy auburn hair fly about her shoulders. It made her tremble a little, but she was used to it for she was trembling all the time anyway because of the coldness inside.  
She bid herself from crying, but one rebellious tear still ran down her cheek. How she missed him.

---

How he missed her. The thought was bittersweet; painful and yet beautiful.  
He kept his eyes focused on the lights of the city. His city. His playground. Big Easy. New Orleans, if you prefer. The dirty jewel of Mississippi.  
He knew just another thing he would call that... A striking memory of a pair of sparkling green eyes and a soft, playful laugh... Too painful.  
He buried his face in his hands in agony. What would put an end to this?

---

The distant lights of the metropolis were twinkling, calling her to come and forget her sorrows in the heartbeat of the city. It would not help, she knew.  
All of her friends had gone to party, even the always so sensible Ororo. They had tried their best to make her come along, especially Kitty and Kurt._  
Kurt..._ How dear her "brother" was to her despite their differences, she mused, and allowed a faint smile cross her beautiful features.  
Their attempts, however, had been in vain. She had stubbornly wanted to stay in the Mansion.  
Logan had eyed her, obviously worried, and growled something about kicking that irresponsible Cajun's ass big time when he'd come back._  
IF he'd come back..._

_--- _

Could he go back? He glanced at his motorcycle down on the street.  
Or was there an easier way? He could drive his bike right down a dock to the muddy embrace of the Mississippi delta...  
He had never been afraid of death. That was for sure. He had led a danger-filled life, but somehow -he didn't know was it luck or what- he had always managed to land on his feet.  
For the Prince of Thieves of New Orleans, lord of the underworld, that was necessary.

A roaring Harley sped down the quiet street. The driver had no helmet and his long yellow hair was fluttering in the wind. He seemed to be laughing.  
He knew the driver. It was one of _them. _In a town like this it wasn't a matter of believing, but of accepting. He did.  
They would let him play his games his way and he would let them act as they willed. It was the way of things in Big Easy.  
This Harley guy, he knew, was some kind of an icon among them. They called him "The Brat Prince".  
He chuckled to himself softly. Not so unlike him...

---

_That infuriating brat!_ She had plenty of reasons to be angry at him, even hate him. And sometimes she did. But not now.  
_How is it possible to hate and love someone at the same time?_ For she loved him. More than anything else.  
There had been a couple of other guys, but none of them had she loved like she loved him. And she knew he had also all rights to hate her.  
Right now she couldn't bear the thought.

She wanted him to love her. To hold her close, to call her _chére_ in a tone more affectionate than the tones he called other women the same.  
To flash her that special smile that swept her off her feet. To kiss her... She cherished the memory of those few times he had kissed her more dearly than anything.  
Those kisses, they were always full of pure passion and despair, and they were breathtaking in many ways...  
Suddenly she was hit by an irresistible urge to see him. And to touch him...

---

_No_, he decided. He couldn't die without seeing her one more time.  
But how was that possible? She probably couldn't stand the sight of him now, and the one thing he couldn't face was her hatred.  
It had started to rain. The silver drops of cold water hit his handsome face, mixed in the rare tears flowing from the devilish, red-black eyes, and ran down his cheek to his lips.  
What was he to do?

---

She knew what must she do.  
Wrapping her well-worn pilot jacket more tightly around her, she took to the air effortlessly. Knowing instinctively where she'd find him, she headed to the South, flying faster than ever. Within an hour she had crossed the distance of thousands of miles.  
Beneath her she saw the great Mississippi River flow into the Gulf of Mexico, and the brilliant, decadent city on its shores.  
It was raining here and soon she was all soaked, but she didn't care. She had to find him.  
She flew lower down, swooping a while above the roofs until she spotted a miserable, wet figure sitting on a rooftop. Her heart bounded with sudden joy as she flew closer to him.

---

With a desperate gesture he ran his slender fingers through his soaked hair_. What's dis good for?_  
He missed her so, longed to see her, but couldn't go to her...  
"Remy...?" He startled violently, his heart almost bounding out of his chest.  
Trembling, he closed his eyes, refusing to turn and face just empty air. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Slowly he turned around.

---

How miserable he looked, her Remy, she thought.  
Remy LeBeau, the charming casanova full of self-confidence, now staring at her like a puppydog, wet and pathetic...  
"Rogue..." he managed to say, in a tone that made her heart melt. He had gotten to his feet and just stood there, hesitating.  
"Ah missed ya," she finally said almost shyly. His face lit up.

---

Those were the magic words.  
He stepped forward and grabbed her into his arms, pressing her petite, curvy body tightly against his.  
She laid her head on his chest. How sweet it was to hold her again... He stroked her wet hair carefully and felt her hands caress his back.

---

_This is where I belong_, she thought, overjoyed, eyes half closed, hearing the voice she so loved whisper those sweet words close to her ear:  
"You've no idea how much I've missed you _chére_..." _Oh, but I do_, she thought. _Every single minute you've been gone, I've missed you painfully..._  
She looked up to his face and saw so much affection in those eyes that she started to cry.

---

As he looked down into her eyes he was almost shocked how much love and happiness he found in them. No mistrust, no bitterness. Just love.  
"Nevah leave me again!" he heard her sob against his chest and felt her squeeze him tight. He felt himself helpless as he told her the truth he knew in his heart:  
"I won't, _mon amour_, I won't..." he murmured into her hair, intoxicated with her nearness.

---

So lovely it was to be in his arms, but she wanted more.  
She wanted to feel his skin under her bare fingers, feel his lips on hers. She wanted to show him how much she loved him.  
On that very moment she felt odd. In a positive way. Never before had she felt so happy, so... free.  
All her defences shattered, only love in her heart. No faintest hue of doubt or fear. Looking deeply into his eyes, she took a step back.  
Then she slowly took off one of her gloves. Hesitantly she stretched out her shaking hand and brushed his cheek lightly with her fingertips.

---

He was amazed. He felt nothing. Not straining or weakening of any kind, not even a tingle.  
"Rogue, _chére_...?" he tried to ask, only to find a delicate finger placed on his lips. "Ah love ya, Remy." Sweet words to hear.  
Gently he clasped her hand and kissed her knuckles looking deeply into her eyes. "_Je t'aime, Rogue, ma belle chérie._ I love you."  
And nothing he had ever said had he meant more.

---

Yes, she had heard it before, but never before had she so completely believed in it.  
There was now no slightest doubt of it. She was free. Lasted it only a while, it didn't matter right now.  
Filled with love for this man she threw her arms around his neck and rose on her toes to give him the most heartfelt kiss ever, and to her great delight she now received in return a kiss filled indeed with pure passion, but instead of despair there was now great amount of joy and relief.  
Anyhow, it damn right took her breath away.

---

Slowly it had ceased raining.  
Cool wind drove the clouds away and bared the ink-black sky filled with stars and the huge, white full moon.  
Under its enchanted light, on a rooftop of an old, 18th century house in the New Orleans French Quarter, two young lovers were completely lost in their own world.  
The magic of the full moon and the old city had worked once again.

-Fin.


End file.
